


Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

by PrettiestStar17



Series: All Bets Are Off [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cinderella Elements, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, HEA, Magic, Pumpkins, Wands, prince and princess, weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 08:09:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettiestStar17/pseuds/PrettiestStar17
Summary: Written for Weasleys, Witches, and Writers' Pumpkin and Ginger  Fall Fest.Prompt- Fred and George's new invention, the Pumpkin Ride, doesn't go as planned.Many thanks to my amazing husband for being my alpha, beta, and real-life Prince Charming <3Fred is planning a special surprise for Hermione's birthday and enlists the help of George and his children.(This is a based off the story I wrote, All Bets are Off. It's not imperative to read that though in order to enjoy this story.)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Series: All Bets Are Off [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774990
Comments: 25
Kudos: 102
Collections: Pumpkin & Ginger Fall Fest





	Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

“Daddy, that looks nothing like the real one.”

Fred sighed and gave his daughter an exasperated smile. “Sweetheart, the ‘real’ one isn’t even real.” He pursed his lips and looked back to the oversized pumpkin that was slowly shrinking back to its original size.“What am I doing wrong?”

“Can we make pukkin’ pasties with the ones we don’t use?” Hugo asked, slowly tipping one of the larger pumpkins onto its side. He watched it roll across the empty store and collide with another cluster of pumpkins.

“How are the customers going to buy anything Daddy?” Eliza asked. She climbed up onto the counter and pulled a fake wand from the ‘Impulse Buy’ bin. When she gave it a wave, it squawked and turned into a rubber chicken, making her giggle.

“Oh, can I have one ‘Liza?” Hugo called rushing over to his twin sister. 

Fred pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a helpless whimper. He had arrived early that morning with the kids, moved all the shelves to sides of the shop, and then brought in the fleet of pumpkins he had purchased the day before. What he hadn’t counted on was his children’s attention span for the special project and now it felt as if he was never going to perfect Hermione’s birthday present in time. 

“Hugo, I’m sure your grandmother will happily make you all the _ pump _kin pasties your little heart desires with the leftovers. Eliza, I closed this shop today, remember? If a customer needs something, they’ll have to go to Hogsmeade,” Fred calmly explained.

“Oh,” Eliza simply replied. She handed a fake wand to Hugo and jumped off the counter. Hugo swished his wand through the air and with a loud ‘caw!’ a toucan sprang forth. “Cool!” Eliza declared and they ran around shop amidst a symphony of squawks and caws.

Fred turned back to his pumpkin and, after a minute of deliberation, started weaving a new set of spells into it. When he stepped back the gourd was sparkling. He took that as a good sign.

“Sprogs! Safety goggles!”

The twins stopped, pulled down the safety goggles they had perched on their heads, and turned to watch their father’s latest attempt at turning a pumpkin into a carriage.

Fred settled his own goggles on his face, aimed his wand at the glittery pumpkin, and traced a set of intricate patterns in the air.

The pumpkin started to swell and the orange color slowly drained away as if someone had poured a barrel of white paint over it. It continued to sparkle as it grew and he heard little gasps and ‘ooohs’ from the kids. He could see areas starting to separate where the windows and doors of the carriage should be. Fred was just starting to get his hopes up that he had actually done it when the pumpkin suddenly glowed neon orange, causing the three Weasleys to yell and shield their eyes. The sparkles dissipated and the pumpkin started emitting a sound like a balloon losing its air. Several seconds later, the pumpkin shell laid flat on the floor with smoke taking the place of the sparkles. 

“You almost had it, Daddy,” Eliza called out, giving Fred an encouraging thumbs-up. 

Fred returned the gesture and pulled off his safety goggles. “I don’t get it,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair.

The front door banged open and Fred looked up to see his own twin standing on the threshold with a look of horror on his face. 

“What in the bloody hell is going on here?” George shouted. He slammed the door and then slowly turned, taking in the state of their shop. “You told me you were closing the store to work on Hermione’s birthday gift.”

“Yeah and we are,” Fred said, gesturing to his smoking failure on the floor. “It’s not going great but we’re working on it.”

“I know Hermione gets weird pregnancy cravings but you can only do so much with pumpkin.” George vanished Fred’s latest attempt and walked over to stand beside his brother. 

“Tell that to the Muggles. You know they’re trying to pass off something they call Pumpkin Spice Popcorn? Ugh.” Fred screwed up his face in disgust and shook his head. “There was a chemists’ announcing the arrival of pumpkin spice deodorant. What sane person wants their pits smelling like that? Pumpkin should be reserved for pasties and pie.” He sighed and let his shoulders slump. “I digress. These pumpkins aren’t for eating. I’m trying to turn one into a carriage.”

“That’s barmier than pumpkin deodorant.” George went quiet for a moment, a bemused look taking over his face. “What are those two chanting?”

Fred realized Hugo and Eliza were now singing, “Sala-gadoola-menchicka-boo-la bibbidi-bobbidi-boo. Put 'em together and what have you got? Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!” as they skipped about, tapping the pumpkins with their fake wands.

“Are they trying to summon some otherworldly demon?” George asked.

Fred chuckled and shook his head. “No, it’s a song from a movie Hermione got them hooked on, which is incidentally the reason I am here, trying to foolishly force a pumpkin into a carriage. You ever hear the story of Cinderella?”

“Can’t say I have.”

Fred took a few minutes to explain the Muggle fairytale to his twin and how it had been one of Hermione’s favorites as a kid. Watching her introduce it to the twins to the film, and seeing his wife relive the magic of her childhood, had given him the idea for this particular gift. She was currently starting the third trimester of pregnancy and had been feeling miserable. Fred thought that this would be a nice surprise to take her mind off her pregnancy stresses for at least one evening. 

“Have you tried the _ Colovaria _ charm with your transfiguration?” George asked after Fred had regaled him with his pumpkin failures. 

“You mean the basic color change charm that we learned as first-years? Wow, no, I never thought to try that one,” Fred answered, sarcasm dripping off his words.

“No need to be a prick about it. Clearly you’re doing something wrong. Let me have a go. Hugo, roll that pumpkin my way!”

The little boy pushed a pumpkin about half his size across the store, to George’s feet. Fred stepped back, giving his brother space as he knelt and inspected the orange tribute. He rapped on the shell with his knuckle and pressed his fingers against it to test the density. 

“Let’s see how this works.” George swirled his wand over the pumpkin and it started to shine as if coated in cooking oil. “Got an extra pair of those goggles, Freddy?”

Fred summoned a pair from the backroom and called his twins over. “Glasses on,” he instructed, pulling his own back over his eyes. “Uncle George is gonna have a crack.”

“Right.” George stood and pushed his sleeves back. “Here we go. Hippity!--”

“Circe’s tits…” Fred groaned. He took a giant step back, pulling the kids with him.

“Hoppity! Hoop!” 

George had barely touched his wand to the pumpkin and the gourd exploded. Fred pulled the twins close as they were all splattered with pumpkin innards and seeds. Hugo and Eliza giggled like mad and started throwing the gooey muck at each other. 

Fred spat out the pulp and brushed seeds from his cheeks. “You said the wrong words, dunderhead.”

“What should I have said?” George asked, scourgifying the mess on his trainers.

“Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo!” Hugo and Eliza shouted, kicking off another round of singing. “It’ll do magic, believe it or not!”

“No, it won’t,” George replied. The twins instantly stopped and stared daggers at him. “What? It’s not a spell. It’s just a load of Muggle jibberish.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Fred murmured, looking away. 

“Done what? Those words don’t mean anything. They aren’t even real words!”

“The song says ‘believe it or not’,” Eliza countered, fixing an unblinking glare on her uncle and placing her hands on her hips. 

“Merlin,” George said, backing away from the little girl. “Sans the red hair, I think I just got a glimpse of young Hermione.

“Hold still,” Fred sighed. With a flick of his wand, the pumpkin guts disappeared from the kids' clothes and hands. “Why don’t you two go check in the back. I think James and Albus left some Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts there last week.”

The promise of sweets made them quickly forget their family feud and the kids dashed to the backroom of the shop. Fred and George retreated to the counter with quills and parchment, trying to figure out how best to manipulate the properties of a pumpkin. 

A dozen attempts later, Fred kicked the remains of a disfigured pumpkin and sent it sailing into the wall, where it burst into chunks and left a gloppy mess oozing over the paint. He let out an agonized groan and pulled at his hair. 

“Why is it so important to turn a pumpkin into a carriage?” George asked, vanishing Fred’s mess. “There are a dozen things that are better suited for transfiguring. Hell, you don’t even need to use magic. You can go rent one.”

“I know, it’s just…it has to be this. I can’t explain it, but I need to do it and I know it can be done.”

George studied him for a moment be replying, “Then it shall be done,” and clapping Fred on the shoulder. “How about we get some lunch, clear our minds, and then give it a fresh look.

After a quick lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and a stop at Flourish and Blotts for crayons and coloring books, the group reassembled with renewed hope and focus. Hugo and Eliza spread out their art supplies in a pumpkinless corner and Fred and George attacked their project from new angles. It took an hour but they finally came up with what they were sure would be a winning spell combination. 

“I’m going to start small,” Fred said, placing a pumpkin no bigger than a gnome in the center of the shop. He cast the combination of spells he and George had (hopefully) perfected. It consisted of an Engorgement charm, Severing spell, a weakened Duro charm, and finally the Colovaria charm. The ordering of the spells would cause the pumpkin to slowly grow and then start carving out the spaces for windows and a door. Finally, the weakened Duro spell would give the fragile shell some durability while the color changed from orange to pearly white. 

With goggles in place, Fred raised his wand and created intricate sparkling patterns in the air as he cast the sequence on spells on his target. 

He stepped back as the pumpkin started to expand. After a minute, a white carriage sat before them. It was barely big enough to fit one of Eliza’s dolls but it was definitely a carriage. A few extra decorative spells and it was sporting wheels, a driver’s platform, and a variety of frilly accessories. 

“You did it!” Eliza cheered, jumping up and down. “It looks just like the one in Mummy’s movie!”

George picked it up and inspected the details.“It doesn’t even smell pumpkiny,” he announced, placing it back on the floor. “Let’s test a bigger one.”

Fred cast a _ Reparifarge _, returning the pumpkin to its original state. Eliza took it away while Hugo carted over a larger one. They spent another half-hour testing the spell with their targets gradually increasing in size. The last one they levitated to the back garden to ensure they had enough space. 

“Thanks for the help, George,” Fred said as he restored the final pumpkin. He gave his brother a tired smile. “Now I just have to figure out how to get it to react with the correct magic words.”

“They aren’t magic words!”

“It’ll do magic, believe it or not!” the kids shouted.

“Not dying on this hill,” George said, holding his hands up in surrender. “See you tomorrow.” With a quick wave, he Disapparated. 

A tug on Fred’s shirt pulled his attention downwards to the excited face of his son. “What’s up, kidder?”

“Can we go make pukkin’ pasties now? I’m hungry!” Hugo pleaded. 

“I suppose we can pay Grandma Molly a visit on our way home,” Fred agreed, ruffling the boy’s hair. “And for the last time, it’s _ pump _kin.”

* * *

  
  


“Mummy! Mummy! Come play Cinderella with us!” Eliza shouted, tugging at her mother’s hand and trying to coax her off the bed.

Hermione moaned, slowly opening her eyes from what had been a restless nap. She rolled to the side, receiving a sharp kick from the little one in utero, and was met with her daughter’s beaming face. 

“Mummy is really tired,” Hermione said, emphasizing the statement with a yawn. “How about we play Sleeping Beauty instead?”

“Please, Mummy!” Eliza begged, pulling at Hermione’s arm until she finally sat up. “Since it’s your birthday, you get to be Cinderella! I’ll go get you a princess dress. It’s almost time for the ball!”

In spite of the exhaustion and pregnancy aches, Hermione smiled. The twins had found her old VHS copy of Cinderella and begged to watch it so she had allowed them to take it along on their next weekend trip to her parents. They came home reciting every line and singing every song. 

Eliza trotted back into the room with Hugo, each holding up a side of a floor-length pink dress. It was almost exactly like the one the birds and mice had made for Cinderella in the movie. There was white satin trimming along the bottom with bows, white shoulder straps, and a big pink bow in the center of the chest.

“Where on earth did you find a dress like this?” she asked, running a hand over the bodice. 

“We found it!” Hugo laughed, bouncing on his tiptoes. “Come on, Mummy! Put it on!”

Without waiting for a reply, the twins scurried from Hermione’s room. As quick as her growing middle allowed, she stripped off her worn t-shirt and lounge pants and pulled the new dress over her head. Even with her bulging stomach, it fit like a dream and as the flowing material settled by her feet, Hermione couldn’t help but twirl and let out a giggle as the skirt billowed around her. She could only imagine what her five-year-old self would say if she could see the dress. 

Keeping with the Cinderella look, Hermione tied a white ribbon around her curls and slipped white flip-flops onto her swollen feet. A far cry from glass slippers, but they would have to do for the moment. 

“I’m ready,” Hermione called as she made her way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, the children were waiting for her, dressed in matching, formal powder blue, and white suits.

Each twin took one of her hands and started escorting her to the front door. “Come on. The Prince is waiting for you!”

“I didn’t think there were any princes in Ottery St. Catchpole,” Hermione muttered, picking up the pace to keep up with the kids.

Hugo let go of her hand and flung open the front door, dashing out into the garden while Eliza pulled Hermione onto the porch.

“Oh…” Hermione gasped, abruptly stopping to take in the scene in front of her. 

Eliza had gone to stand alongside her brother and George, who had on a matching powder blue and white suit. To their left sat the biggest pumpkin Hermione had ever seen. In front of that, bedecked in red trousers, shiny black shoes, and a white jacket, complete with golden fringed epaulets, stood her Prince Charming.

With an ear to ear grin, Fred strode to meet her. Taking her hand and placing a kiss on 

top of it, he whispered, “Happy Birthday, Princess.”

“Thank you. This is wonderful,” she whispered, squeezing his hand and forcing back a sob.

“Not done yet.” Fred led her over to the pumpkin and placed her wand in her right hand. “Just say the magic words.”

“Magic words?” Hermione looked from Fred to the pumpkin and then back again. “Which ones?”

“You know, the _ magic words _.”

Hermione slowly turned her gaze back to the pumpkin...

* * *

Hermione Granger bounced in front of the telly in the family room. Her favorite part of the cartoon was coming up and the five-year-old was excited to dance around in her robe and wave her magic wand with Cinderella’s fairy godmother. Yes, her robe was a tatty blue dressing gown and her wand was plastic with a sparkly star on the top but to Hermione, it was magical.

“Mummy! Here it comes!” Hermione squealed. 

“Mmm-hmm,” Margaret Granger acknowledged with a smile, though never taking her eyes off her cross-stitch. As the song started, she hummed along while her daughter danced around the room, singing nonsense words and waving around a wand that had been given out as a favor at a cousin’s birthday party.

“It’ll do magic, believe it or not! Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” Hermione half sang, half-shouted, along with the film. 

Movement by the fireplace caught Margaret’s eye and she looked up to see Hermione’s dolls jumping up and down. She forced herself to stay quiet and simply watched in wonderment as Hermione spun in circles with the dolls mimicking her actions.

As the song came to an end and Cinderella was whisked off to the ball, Hermione looked back at her mother with big eyes and an open-mouthed smile.

“Mummy! Did you see that?!” she cried.

“I did, darling. How did you make them dance like that?” Margaret asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor calm.

“It was magic! I did magic, just like the Fairy Godmother!” Hermione spun around in gleeful giggles.

Margaret placed her cross-stitch on the side table and moved to the floor. She picked up the dolls, slowly turning each of them over in her hands. Her logical brain looked for a reasonable explanation but after inspecting every doll, she was still left with only questions.

“Hermione.” Her daughter stopped spinning and looked at her. “Have you ever done magic before?”

Hermione’s face fell as she shook her head and said, “No. Did I do something bad?”

“No, you did nothing wrong, sweetpea.” Margaret reached up and ran a hand over the little girl’s unruly curls. “It was just very surprising is all.” She bit her lip, taking a moment to think about how she wanted to phrase her next sentence. “I think it might be best if we keep this our little secret, though.”

“But you and Daddy said it’s not good to keep secrets.”

“Yes, we did say that but--”

“And magic is good so why should it be a secret?” Hermione argued.

Margaret couldn’t help but smile. It appeared she was raising a future litigator. 

“I don’t think everyone will see it that way,” Margaret sighed, taking her daughter’s hand in hers. “There are people out there that are afraid of things like magic and while _ I _ know you would only use it for good, they don’t.”

Hermione’s eyes were still big but her grin had faded. As her mother explained how the world viewed magic, it made her stomach hurt. Margaret never said it, but even at five, Hermione was smart enough to know that people usually took away things that they didn’t like or trust. Hermione did not want herself or her magic to be taken away. 

In her most serious tone, Hermione looked her mother in the eyes and said, “I promise, Mummy, I won’t tell anyone else about my magic.” 

“Thank you,” Margaret whispered, wrapping Hermione in a hug and holding her close.

  
  


* * *

  
  


She looked up at Fred, who smiled and gave her a reassuring nod. 

“Bibbidi.”

Hermione swished her wand, leaving a trail of silver sparkles in the air.

“Bobbidi.”

The sparkles turned to gold with another swish. 

“Boo!”

Hermione touched her wand to the pumpkin and stood in awe as she watched the transformation.

As soon as her wand tapped the pumpkin, it sparkled with silver and gold and started to grow even bigger. The orange color faded to a pearly white. Four wheels sprouted along with a seat for the driver. Ornate vines snaked down from a golden stem. When she took a closer look, Hermione could see plush, purple velvet seats on either side of what was now clearly now a carriage fit for a princess. 

She turned back to Fred.

“How did--I can’t--those aren’t--” Unable to properly express every emotion she was feeling, Hermione finally simply said, “This is amazing!”

Fred gave a little nod and said, “Look down.”

Hermione glanced down and let out a gasp. She had been so enthralled with the pumpkin’s transformation that she never noticed that her dress had undergone one as well. Gone was the pink dress with bows. In its place was a shimmering white ball gown and white satin gloves that reached up to her elbows. When she lifted the skirt she saw that her flip flops had turned into glass.

“Surprisingly comfy for glass.”

“It’s a Glamour. Perfect for sore and swollen feet that want to look royal.” He turned to Hugo and whispered, “Go fetch the horses.”

“Fred, you didn’t,” Hermione gasped, looking around and wondering how she missed a team of horses milling about in the garden.

“No, I didn’t,” Fred assured as Hugo came waddling back under the weight of a wooden crate.

“Field mice weren’t being very cooperative so we got the next best thing,” George said, taking the crate and setting it down in front of the carriage. “Ready, Fred?”

“Get the little buggers out.”

George threw back the latch on the crate and levitated out four garden gnomes with murderous looks on their faces. 

“Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” Fred called, sending a spell at the gnomes. 

By the time the transformation was complete, Hermione was in tears from laughing so hard. Harnessed to the front of the carriage were four of the ugliest horses she had ever seen. They had short, stubby legs and, aside from the wiry tails, were completely hairless.

“I’ll make them look nicer,” Fred sighed, holding up his wand once more. 

“No,” Hermione cried, grabbing his hand and pushing it down. “They’re perfect!”

“You have a weird perception of perfection,” George said, giving the gnome-horses a look of disgust. “I told you we should have run that spell by McGonagall.”

Hermione shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. “No, I love it all! Thank you.”

“Well then, m’lady, shall we away?” Fred asked, opening the carriage door.

He took Hermione’s hand and helped her step inside. Once he was settled on the seat across from her, George closed and latched the door and then climbed onto the driver’s seat, with Hugo and Eliza on either side of him. 

“Where are we going?”

“After a tour around our kingdom, we shall be gifted a grand feast from the King and Queen, along with many of their loyal subjects.”

Hermione grinned. She had been thinking about her birthday dinner with the family all week. 

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” she whispered, taking his hands in hers. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“No one deserves the royal treatment more than you,” Fred replied, running his thumb over her gloved knuckles. “Happy Birthday, Hermione.” He leaned over until his lips met hers with a slow, sweet kiss.

“The horses have wrinkly bums!” Eliza squealed, forcing Hermione to break the kiss with a giggle. 

Leaning her forehead against Fred’s, she let out a content sigh. 

“I’m so happy they get to grow up knowing that magic isn’t something to be scared or ashamed of,” she whispered, closing her eyes and enjoying the sound of her children’s laughter.

“You know, I was confused at first when you said your favorite character was the Fairy Godmother,” Fred said, leaning back and gazing at Hermione. “It took me a minute but I get it.”

“Got me all figured out, do you, Weasley?” she teased, nudging his knee with hers. 

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you’ll keep surprising me until we’re old and grey,” he said with a wink. “She was your favorite because she never had to hide her magic and you never got that luxury until you got to Hogwarts. I understand that top of the class, know-it-all first-year much better now.”

“Know-it-all?” Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow as she tried to fight back tears.

“You know you were.” He kissed her again. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been as a kid. Hiding a part of you to fit into one world, running yourself ragged to prove yourself in another? It just goes to show that you truly are the most amazing, resilient witch and the epitome of everything I admire. I can’t believe I’m the lucky one that gets to sit here and call you mine.”

Hermione had lost the battle and tears were streaming steadily down her cheeks. Her heart felt like it was about to burst and she was just barely able to breath out, “I love you,” before Fred pulled her onto his lap and held her close. 

And that’s how they stayed as their carriage trundled through the orchards and fields. As they rode up The Burrow’s stone drive, she spotted her parents standing outside with Molly and Arthur. She could hear the happy cries of the twins as they clambered down and ran to greet their grandparents.

Fred went to help her to her feet but Hermione held onto him tighter, saying “Can we steal just one more minute?”

“Yes, but I should warn you--”

Fred never got to finish his sentence as the carriage started to shake. With a small _ POP _, they were surrounded by an explosion of glitter, pumpkin guts, and seeds. Wide-eyed and speechless, Hermione could only stare at Fred as orange goop dripped from her hair, splattering onto her dress, that was now back to pink. Over her husband’s shoulder, she caught sight of four little gnomes scurrying into the nearest overgrown bush. 

Looking back at Fred, she wiped away the glittery goop from his anxious face. “It would appear the clock struck midnight,” she said, breaking into a fit of laughter and burying her face into the crook of his neck. 

“Happy birthday, love.”


End file.
